Love in the Lab, chapter one
by daisydol
Summary: After the dust settles, Booth has time to really think about Bones' lack of grief for his death. Does she care for him at all? Rated M for later chapters. First Bones fic, please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**So, like everyone, I feel like the "death" of Booth was a fertile soil that could have been reaped a bit more. Takes place after the finale.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing in relation to the show Bones.**

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Booth was at a loss for how to help Bones. She'd just lost Zach, they all had, and it was a lot to take in. With Gormogon caught and Zach the victim of his brainwashing, the team was shaken to its foundation. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little hurt, which made him feel selfish.

He'd taken a bullet for her, had supposedly died for her, and she hadn't seemed to care. She'd tossed an explanation out that she was able to compartmentalize her feelings, that she was able to move on in the interest of doing her job, yada yada yada.

Loosening his tie slightly he walked away from the group and sat down in one of the comfier chairs in Angela's office. He needed to take a break from the reminiscing for awhile. He needed to collect himself, stop feeling angry for a moment so he could go back out there and continue to support the team who'd just lost a part of them.

It had been a long few days and his shoulder ached from the still healing bullet wound that sat taped with gauze under his shirt. He rubbed the spot absently, thinking of her face when she'd seen him at his own funeral. He'd never seen her that furious and, at first he was confused why. He thought she knew about his faked death. He couldn't lie to himself, he'd wondered over the last few days what would happen if she thought he was really dead. Would she cry? Would she think about him?

A humorless smirk came to his face as the adage "be careful what you wish for, you just might get it" went through his mind. She had thought he was dead and now he knew how she would feel if someday he died in the line of duty. She hadn't lost even a bit of pep in her step over it.

"Booth?"

Angela's voice snapped him back to reality and he chided himself privately for throwing such a pity party over it. "Hi Angela."

She crossed the room to her desk and turned on the desk lamp. Her eyes were red rimmed and glassy, her nose raw. She'd been crying for hours over Zach as they'd begun going through his things. His heart went out to her, the most sensitive squint on the team. Suddenly he became aware that he was in her office, where she would probably like to be alone for awhile.

He rose from the chair and started for the door. "I'll let you have some time to yourself Angela, sorry for intruding."

"No Booth, it's okay. I just needed to grab something off my desk. Please, sit back down for a sec, I'll hang out with you before I go back with the others. I could use a little breather from the Zach talk for minute. What were you doing in here?"

She sat down in the chair across from the one that Booth had just occupied. Following her lead, he reclaimed his old seat. "Oh, you know, I was just, I was meditating for a minute."

Angela gave him one of her looks that said she smelled a rat. "Sweetie, you're a good guy."

Booth squirmed in his chair. "Thanks."

Her expression never changed. "Which makes you a terrible liar."

He was and he knew it. Thankfully, his talents were better developed in smelling out lies when other people told them, making him an excellent judge of character and good at his job. He was born to be on the right side of the law, he couldn't lie himself out of a paper bag.

Angela's eyes were on him intently and he could tell she wasn't going to let him off the hook before he spilled a little. With everything she'd just been through though, he just didn't feel like it was right to bother her with his problems. He could handle his own bruised pride by himself.

Which was exactly what he told her, eliciting one of the biggest eye rolls he'd ever had directed at him.

"Booth, don't you know that the best way to distract someone from their own problems is to dish about someone else's? Why do you think people watch Dr. Phil?"

She had a point. Squirming in his chair again he loosened his tie a bit more, suddenly feeling like it was stuffy in there. If he was going to talk to any of the squint squad, Angela was definitely the one he felt he could talk to. But she was Bones' best friend and colleague. Maybe she wasn't the best, most objective person to talk to about this. She started tapping her foot lightly, an expectant look on her face, and he realized that he wasn't going to have much of a choice.

Maybe if he just kept to a sketchy outline of facts she would be satisfied and drop it. "I've just been thinking about the whole thing with the shooting. I feel bad that Bones wasn't told about my faked death."

Angela leaned back in her chair and eyed him like Hodgins eyed slides of particulate matter. "You feel bad because she didn't know or you feel bad because she wasn't told and acted like it didn't bother her very much?"

Booth let all of the air out of his lungs and stared at her in disbelief. "What are you, an interrogation specialist now?"

A bright smile flashed across her face and for a moment Booth was glad that his situation was providing her with the distraction she needed to be happy Angela again. "Sweetie, I may not be an FBI agent but if there's one thing I know, it's men."

Booth yanked at his tie until it was off his neck completely and stuffed it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. She was still looking at him like he was a fascinating science project and it was making him feel very exposed. Why hadn't he gone into Bones' office?

Because he'd wanted some distance from her. Because he was hurt.

As she waited patiently for him to provide her the clarification she asked for, he found it was getting more and more difficult to keep his details sketchy.

"A little of column A, a little of column B I guess. It's no big deal." He tried to give her a casual laugh, use a bit of his charm, but she was proving too good at reading him and he felt naked.

Angela leaned forward, her expression growing serious. "Booth, I'm going to tell you something and you are forbidden to repeat it. Brennan is my best friend and you know how she hates having her personal life discussed openly, especially behind her back."

Booth nodded his head and leaned forward in his own chair, mimicking Angela's posture.

"After you passed out from your gunshot wound, the paramedics arrived and took you to the hospital. They wouldn't let Brennan on the ambulance with you and she stood in the street, watching your ambulance, sobbing."

A small dull ache started in Booth's chest as he listened to her tell the other side of things. The last thing he'd remembered was Bones kneeling over him, ordering him to hold on. Then he was in a hospital room with a twenty-four hour guard and orders to allow only a select few people, which had included Bones, know about his survival. In all the chaos, he hadn't heard anything about what had happened during the week leading up to his sham of a funeral.

"We all drove to the hospital as fast as we could, but when we got there we were told that they were still working on you. Brennan paced the waiting room, going on and on occasionally about the nature of a gunshot wound to that area of your body and how, if the doctor's were even marginally competent, you should be fine."

Booth smiled at the mental picture. He'd seen her try to work a problem that scared her in just that way. She'd go over all of the facts about it over and over in her head until she had theorems and hypotheses. It kept her calm to fall on science when she felt out of control. Most of the time, it helped to calm him too.

Angela went on, her head dropping a bit. "Then they came out and told us that you were dead."

Booth watched with sorrow as he saw that his death had affected her. He'd forged friendships with the team at the Jeffersonian and he had been so wrapped up in how Bones would feel that he had entirely forgotten that anyone else would have been impacted. He silently cursed himself. He dealt with death everyday, saw the ripples it created surrounding the victim.

"Angela, I'm so sorry that I caused you pain. I should have apologized to you right away. It was thoughtless of me."

Angela waved him off and gave him a small nod. "I understand Booth. Hell, I was so relieved to see you alive I was perfectly happy accepting it under any terms. It was like a Days of Our Lives moment. We were all just glad to have you back."

"Except Bones." The cynical twist was in his voice before he could reach out and snatch it back and the look on Angela's face said she hadn't missed it.

"I'm getting there Booth." She continued on, a far away look creeping into her eyes as she brought the memories back to the forefront of her mind.

"We all started sobbing, all of us. Hodgins wrapped his arms around me and we cried on each other's shoulders. Cam sank back down into her chair, her hands balling up into fists. I thought she was going to start punching things, but she just cried. Zach-" Her voice broke at the mention of her friend but she went on. "Zach sat down with Cam and put his arm around her. But Brennan-"

Angela looked directly into Booth's eyes, hitting him again with one of her expressions that told him she saw more than others did when it came to the people around her. "Brennan stood in the center of the room and said nothing. It took me a second in my own shock to realize that I should go to her. After all you were her partner. I went to hug her, but it was like she was made of stone. She didn't move, didn't speak. She just stared at the door the doctor had come through to tell us the news. She stood without reacting for so long that everyone started to notice. Then, she took off through the doors after the doctor. She demanded to see you, but he told her that the FBI had ordered an autopsy and that no one would be allowed to see the body."

A slimy ribbon of guilt began working its way through Booth. He had been just fine. Hell, he'd probably been conscious by that point.

"Brennan started screaming at the guy, saying she was your partner and he was going to have to arrest her because she wasn't going to take no for an answer. She was screaming that the FBI didn't need to do an autopsy, that there had been dozens of witnesses and that she insisted on seeing you. We were all so upset that it took me a second to realize that in her tirade she'd started crying. Two guys in suits came and escorted her out of the building, but she never stopped screaming at them. Once they threw her out she collapsed and Hodgins had to pick her up to put her in my car. I had to spend the night at her place. She cried all night Booth."

His heart was slamming in his chest at her words. Bones had seemed so cavalier, so hard about the whole thing. His voice was quiet and he found he couldn't quite meet Angela's eyes. "I didn't think she had cared at all."

Angela leaned back, a wry smile on her face. This one was a smile he'd seen from her on several occasions. It was her you're-an-idiot smile. "I can see how you would think she didn't care. I mean, she only tried to kick your ass when you showed up at your own funeral."

Booth shook his head. "Anger and grief aren't always the same thing Angela. Bones saw my not telling her as a breach of trust. When someone you-" he paused, choosing his words carefully, "care for is dead, you don't try to finish the job yourself when you see that they've miraculously come back to life."

Angela shook her head. "She came in the next day and acted as if things were business as usual. I guess, for the casual observer it would be understandable to mistake her coldness as indifference. But you aren't the casual observer Booth. You know people and you know her. She cared, still does."

Angela rose from her chair, the color in her cheeks looking a bit better now. She stretched her long, lithe frame and made her way to the door, feeling ready to rejoin her friends in going over Zach's things. If the last few days had taught her anything, it was not to pull any punches and she wanted Booth to leave this room with the absolute truth as she'd seen it.

Looking down at him still seated in his chair she leveled him with her eyes, wanting to drive her point home before she ended the conversation. "Booth, Brennan was like shattered safety glass after you died. She was still in one piece, still held together by that binding that has always made her so strong. But every piece on the inside of her was shattered. She was a shell of broken bits walking around this place."

She walked to the doorway and couldn't resist throwing in the last piece of information that she felt he needed to face. "I wouldn't have expected anything less from her after losing the man that she loves."


	2. Chapter 2

**So, sorry about the bold print in the first chapter. I am new to this site and had a small problem uploading the story. Thank you so much for all of the positive feedback so far! Here's more….**

Booth lay in his bed, a U2 ballad playing from his iPod.

_And all, I want, is you…._

He wasn't going to get any sleep over this one, he could tell. His talk with Angela had made things feel better up until she'd thrown in that last part before walking out of the room and leaving him more confused than before she'd come in.

She'd said that he was the man that Bones loved. Had Bones told her that or was this another instance of Angela seeing things in people that they couldn't even admit to themselves? Booth pressed the heels of his hands to his exhausted eyes. Maybe Angela was just seeing what she wanted to see and there wasn't any bearing behind it.

But she'd read him like a children's book.

The sun began to peak over the horizon and Booth sat up in bed, running a weary hand over his face.

_All the promises we break, from the cradle to the grave…_

Booth had promised Angela that he wouldn't tell Bones about their discussion. He never would have anyway, he didn't need to be told how to handle Bones when it came to her personal life and feelings. Traversing that territory with Bones was like walking down a very winding path filled with roadblocks and hazards and eventually lead to a dead end.

What he needed was a way to get her to talk to him about her feelings without her knowing that he was getting her to talk about her feelings. He needed her to tell him how what was in her heart, but it had to happen organically. She didn't respond well when you pressed the issue. He'd have to figure out a way to make her feel like opening up to him about their relationship was the logical thing to do.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and let his head hang, his forearms resting on his knees. Before he could think about how to get Bones to come to terms with her feelings about him, he was going to have to come to terms with his feelings about her.

_And all, I want, is you…._

They'd been working on cases for years now, they were partners who worked well as a team. She was the stoic, methodical one who looked at a scenario and refused to make conclusions based on anything but the cold, hard facts. He saw the people involved, saw the human element. Together, they were unstoppable at fighting the injustices that can strike innocent people and he didn't want to do anything to jeopardize something that important.

But he'd wanted her to grieve for him.

He'd been over and over it in his head while he'd lain in bed, wishing for sleep but finding it utterly elusive. He'd tried telling himself that he'd want any of his friends or co-workers to miss him if he was gone. He'd tried to convince himself that it was a natural thing for anyone to feel like they'd mattered in this world before they left it and he was right. That was a normal thing to want. Except, he wasn't being completely honest. He hadn't wanted for her just to miss him, or feel like he'd mattered. He'd wanted her to hurt.

He felt as low as dirt when he'd finally admitted it to himself. What kind of man wanted a person to be in pain that he claimed to care about? What kind of man was he that his feelings had been hurt when a friend of his hadn't been miserable over a misunderstanding?

He was a man in love.

The sigh came from the bottom of his toes. It was the sigh of the condemned. He had to admit it to himself or he was going to go crazy with guilt over his selfishness. The problem was, now that he had admitted it, he was going crazy trying to decide what to do about it.

If the bureau knew, they'd split them up so fast his head would spin and that was unacceptable. They were too good as a team and the work they did was too important. Besides, he was on their list anyway ever since the clown shooting incident and he didn't need to give them any more cause for doubt where his job performance was concerned.

They could come to grips with this and keep it completely separate from work. She'd proven over and over again that she could remain totally objective and professional regarding her work, even if personal issues blended at the edges here and there. He would just take a page out of her book and do the same. When they were working a case, they would just be Booth and Brennan, an FBI special agent and a forensic anthropologist. Totally compartmentalized.

Except, there was one little problem. He'd taken a bullet for her.

Rising from his bed, Booth went into the bathroom and started the shower. When two people who worked in the types of intense circumstances that he and Bones worked in became romantically involved it clouded their judgment, he'd seen it before. They let their guard down and then one or both of them would get hurt. He hadn't given it a second's pause when he'd seen Pam level that gun at Bones on the stage. All he could think was to protect her and then he was on the ground bleeding.

Stepping into the shower, he turned the water up to as hot as he could stand. His muscles ached from his poor night's sleep and his brain was so full he wished he could shut it off for just a few moments.

He had been prepared to die for Bones, and if he were given the chance to do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing. He knew he was in love and now there was no turning back. Once you know, you can't ever un-know.

Which put him at an impasse. He could force a scenario in which they discussed their feelings for each other, which would inevitably tear their team apart in one of two ways. If he told her how he felt and she admitted to feeling the same way, the bureau would split them up. If he told her how he felt and Angela had it wrong, if Bones really didn't care for him the way he cared for her, it would tear them apart from the inside. The last option was that he could ignore things and live with the pain of not having her near him in ways that he was finally willing to admit he wanted her in.

He closed his eyes as he lathered his skin and thought of her face. Her angular jaw, her soft brown hair. She looked like she'd been carved by some renaissance sculptor in the perfection of her features, but his favorite part about her face was her eyes. They were light and sparkling with finely arched eyebrows defining them. The best part about them was how her intelligence shown just under their surface. He loved to look directly into her eyes while she worked a problem in her mind. It was watching genius first hand and it was exhilarating.

He thought about how she'd felt that day just before Christmas when Caroline had made them kiss under the mistletoe so Bones could get a trailer for her dad. He'd thought their kiss would be dry and closed mouthed for five seconds and over before he'd be able to dwell on it.

But she'd let him have it, even grabbing his lapels and he'd gone rock hard instantly. He couldn't think of anything the rest of the day and he'd had to take matters into his own hands, so to speak, when he'd gone home that night in order to get any sleep.

She'd said it was like kissing her brother. Maybe Angela really was just seeing what she wanted to see.

He slapped the shower off with a scowl. He couldn't have any more sleepless nights about this. It was long past time that things were resolved, which made his stomach sink. He knew what he was going to have to do. With his mood blackening by the moment, he dried himself off and set about getting dressed.

He was going to have to talk to Sweets.


	3. Chapter 3

**Wow everyone, thank you for the great feedback! I really appreciate it. I hope you keep enjoying the story!**

Booth had finally swallowed his pride enough to walk into Sweets' office and was disappointed to find that he wasn't even there. They didn't have an appointment, Booth hadn't wanted to make this conversation that official. He would rather gouge out his own eyes than talk about his _feelings_ with their FBI mandated shrink, but he was the only one who could help. He knew both of them and he could help Booth figure out the best course of action to take.

A cup of fancy Starbucks coffee sat on the infant psychiatrist's desk with the lid off, fragrant steam coming off of the hot, dark liquid in steady waves. The coffee was as fresh as could be, which told Booth that Sweets must have just stepped out.

Sitting down in one of the chairs that he usually occupied during his sessions with Bones, he looked around the room and waited. The only joy he ever got in here was when he and Bones would decide to team up on Sweets. Bones hated psychiatry and Booth didn't like anyone picking around at the skeletons in his closet. If they were locked away in there it was for a damn good reason.

Feeling restless, he stood back up and started pacing the room. Where was that annoying little man? Booth knew that he'd reached a tragic day in his life when he was desperately awaiting the arrival of Sweets.

Slamming his hands in his pockets he paced impatiently, glancing down at the desk as he passed it. He stopped dead as he caught a familiar name on a freshly printed sheet of paper. Darting a look over his shoulder to see that he was still alone, Booth reached down and retrieved the document, his eyes darting over the words with avid interest.

_In watching the working process employed by Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan it was becoming more and more evident that there were deeply underlying emotional issues at work. Their relationship was clearly transcending that of a traditional law enforcement partnership and this was presenting several interesting scenarios to be explored._

_As luck would have it, the perfect situation presented itself in which I could test some of my theories. A document came over my desk informing me that Agent Booth was going to be listed as deceased long enough to apprehend a known fugitive. A list of people to be notified of this special assignment was given to me and it included Doctor Brennan. It was at this time that I chose not to disclose the information that Agent Booth was not actually deceased in order to observe and study the response it would create in Doctor Brennan, both upon receiving the news of her partner's death and upon the realization that he was in fact alive. _

Booth's heart was pounding in his and his jaw set in fury. Sweets had purposefully kept his survival from Bones, not to help keep the information in as few hands as possible as he'd claimed, but to play God with her emotions. A small voice in the far recesses of his mind reminded him that he himself had wondered how she would react just as Sweets had, but it wasn't the same. He'd fantasized about it but Sweets had acted on it. Booth continued to read.

_Doctor Brennan's ability to remove herself from her emotions is staggering. In discussing her feelings about her partner's death she informed me that she was dealing with the information and moving forward. She even assured me that it wouldn't impact her ability to perform her duties in service to the Jeffersonian or to the FBI. It wasn't until the entire incident was revealed to be a sham that Doctor Brennan demonstrated any emotion about the issue at hand. It was unsurprising that the feeling she connected with most easily was rage. In disappearing and reappearing from her life, Agent Booth replicated the scenario Doctor Brennan had endured fifteen years ago with the disappearance of her parents and later her brother. _

Booth felt like he'd been sucker punched. Bones had been abandoned by everyone she had ever loved and she'd had to rely on herself to get through the lonely times or the scary times. Crying over it or giving in to sadness in any way wouldn't have helped her get her parents back, wouldn't have kept her from bouncing to foster home after foster home. Booth knew all too well that anger was an easier emotion to deal with than fear or grief. It was a survival technique. He should have seen it himself.

_I was prepared to chalk her reactions up to childhood transference, but a conversation I later had one on one with Doctor Brennan threw my theories into a different direction. In coming up with a compelling reason for not telling her about her partner's survival I knew I would have to present the reason in as logical a manner as possible. Doctor Brennan will respect any action where the motive is for the greater good and the mechanics of the action are just and within reason. I had explained my reasoning for keeping the truth about Agent Booth's "death" from her and Doctor Brennan had readily accepted my reasoning as sound in the presence of Agent Booth._

_I was surprised, however, when Doctor Brennan confronted me on my true intentions once we were separated from Agent Booth. She was angry and spoke to me in a low rush in order to avoid having Agent Booth overhear her confrontation with me. She told me that she knew I withheld Agent Booth's status in order to observe her reaction and she accused me of using them both as guinea pigs. I had been prepared for the possibility that she would see this as an ulterior motive, but what I was unprepared for was the reason for her hushed confrontation. She informed me that I had "better cut it out" in reference to engineering experimental social scenarios for she and Agent Booth because if Agent Booth found out he would "punch you out."_

Booth had to laugh out loud. He could almost hear her telling Sweets off. God, he wished he'd been there. Bones was right though, he would have decked the little shit.

_Everything from Doctor Brennan's use of words to her reasoning all circle back to her strong feelings for Agent Booth._

This had Booth's full attention and he glanced over his shoulder once more before hurrying to finish reading the little witch doctor's opinion.

_Doctor Brennan is a highly educated woman who is known to express herself in cold and clinical terms in even the most social of settings. For her to use phrases such as "cut it out" and "punch you out", she is accessing an adolescent side to herself that was interrupted due to the traumatic events she experienced. In order for one to revert back to how they might act during a traumatic time in their lives, a catalyst must be present that is much like the original event to the subject. Doctor Brennan lost all of the people in her life that she had ever deeply loved due to abandonment. When some of those members of her family re-entered her life, her initial reaction was one of anger and hostility. Agent Booth's death felt very much like abandonment to Doctor Brennan and, upon learning that it was a lie, she became hostile that she had been forced to suffer unnecessarily. It is in my opinion that the underlying reasons for this are Doctor Brennan's deep love for Agent Booth. _

A shuffling of feet behind him registered in Booth's thoughts and he rose from his chair just as Sweets walked into the room with several files in his hands.

Sweets smiled cordially at Booth, his face showing pleasant surprise to see him. "Agent Booth, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Booth stared at the psychiatrist, anger crackling in his eyes. Sweets' smile faded a notch. Booth was in an obviously dangerous mood, the origins for which were a complete mystery to Sweets. Then he saw what Booth held in his hands and went deathly pale.

"Sweets, give me one good reason why I shouldn't knock you on your ass right now."


	4. Chapter 4

**Holy cow, you guys really wanna see Sweets pay! Hope this works for ya, it's how I saw it in my head. Your reviews are really encouraging, I'm new to fanfic and want to be a romance author and your insights are very helpful, thank you thank you thank you. So, here is the latest, only a couple more chapters to go. Enjoy!**

Sweets began inching his way sideways toward his desk, never turning his back on the icy stare in front of him. He was pretty sure that any threats Booth made in the middle of the FBI offices were idle, but there was that incident with the clown….

He was almost to the safety of his desk when he spoke, his words coming out measured and calm. "Agent Booth, it is a breach of confidentiality for you to read random paperwork that you find on my desk."

Before he could react, Booth was across the room and grabbing him by the front of his shirt with one hand, his other hand still clutching his clinical assessment of Doctor Brennan. Sweets let out a small yelp of surprise as he felt his feet leave the floor slightly, the files in his hands falling to the floor in a flurry of spilled paperwork. Booth's face was inches from his, his eyes boring holes into his own. Sweets was positive, in that moment, that he was about to die.

"Seems to me that you don't care much for confidentiality if you leave your office door open. As one of your patients, I take issue with that." His tone was icy, his eyes unblinking. "And I take issue with being a lab rat too."

Sweets fought to keep his voice from shaking and failed. "I've already been over this with Doctor Brennan. I see that manipulating your circumstances was a mistake, I apologize."

Booth wanted to shake him until his brain rattled in his skull, but he had come here because he'd made the decision to talk to Sweets and the shrink wouldn't be of much use with scrambled eggs for brains.

Without warning, Booth released his hold on him. Sweets stumbled violently backwards at his unexpected freedom, grabbing out frantically for the side of his desk to keep from falling, his coffee spilling all over his chair in the process.

Booth stood deadly still and stared while Sweets righted himself, his hand going up instinctively to his rumpled shirt to smooth it out. When Booth spoke again it was through clenched teeth. "You, me, pie, now."

Confusion had Sweets slamming his eyebrows together at the Special Agent's words, but Booth turned to walk away, implying that Sweets should follow.

"It's nine o'clock in the morning Agent Booth."

Booth continued to walk to the door. "I need to talk to you."

"We can talk here."

Sweets instantly regretted the words as they made Booth turn and stalk back towards him. He was relieved that he didn't grab him by the shirt again, but Booth got back in his face, his voice dropping to an almost whisper in his effort to be as intimidating as possible. It was working like a charm.

"Look Sweets, here's how it is. I have some things I need your help with and I don't want them on Bureau time or the Bureau dime, got it? This is confidential."

A cold feeling spread through Sweets' stomach as the implications of what Booth said began to sink in. "Agent Booth, I work for the FBI to help them assess the fitness of their agents. I should tell you that if you are going to talk to me about something that could directly effect your job performance with them, it's a part of my job to disclose that information through the proper channels."

Booth smiled a humorless smile, his eyes staying dangerous looking and determined. "Well, how I see it is this has to do with your little side project and given what I've seen here-" Booth shoved the clinical assessment he'd still been holding hard into Sweets' chest, knocking the wind slightly out of him. "I'd say you owe me one if you want anything to do with myself or Bones again."

This time when Booth turned to leave the office, Sweets followed close behind.

After a short ride over in which Sweets became convinced that Booth was merely taking him to a secluded spot where no one could hear him scream they ended up, to his relief, at the diner. The psychiatrist started to feel more at ease now that they were in a heavily populated place, his concern segueing into personal and professional curiosity.

Booth's current behavior was fascinating. Aside from the obvious break from normal, coming to him alone to talk, he was sitting in front of a piece of cherry pie that he'd yet to eat and a cup of coffee he wasn't sipping. Instead, he was staring down at his food and poking it angrily with his fork.

"Is there something wrong with the pie Agent Booth?"

Booth pushed the plate away a bit, his scowl deepening. "Guess I'm just not hungry."

Sweets nodded, waiting for a moment to see if Booth would break the silence first and explain why they were there. Booth just stared, leaving Sweets to roll his eyes after a moment. Booth had initiated this meeting, but he clearly wanted Sweets to drag his reasons out of him.

"Agent Booth, I think it would be helpful if you just said what was on your mind. Think of it like ripping off a band-aid. Just lay it out on the table."

"I'm in love with Bones."

It had burst out of his mouth so quickly that it surprised even him. A feeling of calm began to wind its way through his limbs. He'd admitted it. Finally.

Sweets' eyes went so wide that he was sure his eyebrows were touching his hairline. He watched Booth as all of his bravado seemed to melt out of him at the words, like the air being let out of a tire. He uncrossed his arms from in front of his chest and sat his elbows on the table. He looked like a man who'd been carrying a heavy weight around and was now exhausted from unloading his burden.

Sweets pumped his fist once in triumph under the table so Booth wouldn't see, but he just wasn't able to repress a smug smile.

Booth's eyes narrowed. "Something funny kid?"

Sweets shook his head, trying as hard as he could to get his face under control, but a small chuckle escaped. Booth's eyes turned deadly.

Sensing he was in imminent danger, Sweets held up a hand to calm Booth. "I'm sorry Agent Booth, I'm not smiling at you. It's just, well-" Sweets seemed to struggle for a moment before he broke into a full out celebration of himself. "I knew it! I knew it! I'm the man!"

This time he pumped a fist in the air to punctuate how pleased he was. The look on Booth's face told him that congratulations wouldn't be forthcoming, so he finally reigned it in. It was time to help the obviously tortured man sitting in front of him.

Leaning forward so he could clasp his hands on the table in front of him, Sweets switched into psychiatrist mode.

" Okay, so I'm assuming that you wanted to discuss this with me, of all people, because I know both you and Doctor Brennan on a more intimate level and you are having concerns about what to do regarding your feelings?"

Booth nodded.

"Well then, let's start with your concerns."

Booth squirmed in his seat a bit and cleared his throat. He'd known that actually getting down to talking about this was going to be uncomfortable but he'd needed advice from an objective third party. Sweets was the closest thing he had to that and the bonus was that he knew them both. The drawback was Sweets was a smug little prick.

"My concerns are that we work together. I don't want anything to interfere with our professional relationship, we both agree that our work is too important and we make too good of a team to be split up."

Sweets squinted his eyes slightly at Booth as if he was analyzing something that he'd said very deeply. "Agent Booth, how long would you say you've been in love with Doctor Brennan?"

Booth sat for a moment, feeling incredibly foolish. He'd thought about that last night as he'd lain in bed, the moon streaming into his window. He'd thought about all the times that he'd looked at her and been staggered by how beautiful she was, all the times he'd laughed at something she said or did.

He remembered how he felt when they spent a lot of time together, when they'd danced at her apartment to classic rock or when they'd gotten night after night of Chinese food when she'd discovered her real identity. She'd cried in his arms, reached out to him for strength and he had the feel of her, the smell of her, etched into his heart. He'd thought about how his chest had hurt on almost a daily basis when she'd been dating Sully and how pleased he was to see that guy go. He remembered how he'd felt when he found out that her second book had been dedicated to him.

Each of those things that stood out in his memory had one pervasive emotion stringing them all together and that was passionate, desperate, hopeless love.

Booth smiled, a gentleness finally cracking through the anger, confusion and discomfort he'd been displaying up to this point. "If I had to try and pin it down, the closest I guess I could get would be the first time I laid eyes on her."

Sweets had already decided to help Booth without involving the FBI, but if he hadn't the look in Booth's eyes would have convinced him. He'd never seen this side of the man before, an utterly vulnerable side. He had been impressed that Doctor Brennan could compartmentalize her feelings and emotions so well and he'd spent days analyzing the underlying emotional root structures that ran beneath her surface. Now it appeared that he'd underestimated Booth's ability to compartmentalize as well. Sweets had theorized that they had mutual feelings for each other, but seeing such naked love in Booth's eyes was humbling. To be around them both so often and never see even a fraction of this emotion in Booth directed at Brennan was amazing to him.

It was Sweets' turn to smile. "Well, I'd say that you are both very adept at separating the personal from the professional based on my observations of you. If this wasn't merely an off the clock conversation between two friends in a diner," (Booth arched his eyebrow slightly at Sweets' use of the 'friends') "I would still see no reason to inform the FBI of any budding relationship until such time that it actually interfered with your work. So problem solved. That is what you were concerned about, was it not Agent Booth?"

Booth crossed his arms in front of him again and nodded slowly, the look on his face completely unconvincing to Sweets. Booth sighed. He'd come this far in being honest about his feelings today, as much as it made him want to hit something.

He looked Sweets in the eye. "I feel stupid saying this."

Sweets made sure his face looked reassuring. "I promise you Agent Booth, there isn't anything you could say that would sound stupid. Again, just lay it out there."

Booth's voice was soft as he continued. "What if everyone is wrong? What if she doesn't actually have any feelings for me at all beyond friendship?" He looked out the window at the people passing by, his expression unreadable, before turning back to look at Sweets again. "What if she doesn't love me?"

He'd finally been able to come to terms with his feelings and the thought of Bones rejecting him outright made his stomach clench. If she didn't feel the same way that he felt about her…well, Booth didn't want to think about how bad that would hurt.

Sweets gave him an understanding look. "Uncertainty pertaining to reciprocal feelings is the main concern for most people when they contemplate initiating a romantic relationship. You know how they get past it?"

Booth narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"They ask the person."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Come on Sweets, you know it isn't that easy. We're talking about Bones here."

Sweets shook his head. "I'm aware of who we're talking about Agent Booth. Admittedly, Doctor Brennan is a more complicated person than others. You won't get her to fall at your knees with chocolates and daisies, but you know her better than anyone. Get her out of her head, make her think for even a moment with her heart, and you'll get the girl. I'd stake my professional reputation on it."

His words made sense as he thought about the incredibly sensitive way Bones could act once she trusted her emotions. He'd seen her call on favors with political officials to save a town because she'd allowed herself to feel for one little boy. He'd even seen her almost give up her reputation, her very freedom, to cast doubt in a jury's mind about her father's guilt. She'd done these things in direct opposition to her removed, scientific opinions once she'd let her heart in.

A slow smile spread across Booth's features, his charm beginning to return before Sweets' eyes.

"Get her out of her head and into her heart." Booth repeated. He knew just what he was going to do to get the girl.


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm glad you guys liked the last chapter! Onto the next…**

Temperance Brennan walked into her office after lunch, eager to get back to work reconstructing a skull from the latest box they'd brought up from limbo. From what she'd seen so far, it looked like the victim had been shot or speared through the skull with an arrow or a crude instrument of some kind and she was eager to learn more.

She slid into her chair to type the unlock password for her computer when she saw a package on her desk. It was wrapped in plain, brown butcher paper with no address or return address, indicating that it had been hand delivered. It was marked across the top with only her first name written in small, neat, black print.

Looking out of the windows to her office she couldn't see anyone watching her, giving her no clues as to who the sender was. With security on high alert after the Jeffersonian's most recent and painful internal breach, someone with permission to enter the lab must have placed the package here.

After hesitating for another moment she tore the paper off of a plain white gift box, about the size of two decks of playing cards lying end to end. She opened it carefully to reveal a beautifully carved antique, wooden spoon. She took it out of the box to admire its ornate craftsmanship, marveling at its beauty. The wood was a light in color, most likely birch. It was about the size of a modern wooden spoon used for cooking, except its handle was carved with twelve rows of interlocking hearts going all the way up to one heart at the tip. Brennan was awestruck.

"Hey, whatcha got there?"

She looked up to see Angela standing in her doorway, peering quizzically at the object in her hands.

"It's a Welsh Love Spoon."

Angela smiled in confusion. "A Welsh who the what now?"

Brennan continued to examine the item, turning it over in her hands. "A Welsh Love Spoon. They were given by young male suitors to a female as a way of showing the girl and her family his intentions for marrying."

Angela chuckled and took a seat across from Brennan's desk, reaching out for the spoon so she could take a closer look. "Have the Welsh never heard of diamonds?" Brennan handed it to her, never taking her eyes off of it. "Anthropologically speaking, giving a handmade item that is used to administer food symbolized the suitor's ability to provide for their potential mate. In many cultures that is the ultimate expression of love."

Angela arched her eyebrow and handed the spoon back. "Yeah, well, I think diamonds symbolize that too. Where did you get it?"

Brennan gestured to the box still sitting on her desk. "When I came back from lunch it was here."

Angela picked up the discarded wrapping paper and saw that the only marking read _Temperance_. "Do you have any idea who it could be from?"

Putting the spoon down on her desk she shook her head. Angela's smile widened.

"You have a secret admirer."

Confusion knit Brennan's eyebrows together as she looked at her friend. "How do you mean?"

Angela rolled her eyes at her best friend's obtuseness. "Sweetie, someone left you an anonymous love token on your desk."

Brennan picked the box back up to investigate it more closely and found a small, folded card inside. She looked up at Angela with a smug smile on her face, holding the card up for her friend to see.

"There's a card. We'll just clear this up right now."

She cleared her throat and opened the card to read it aloud.

_You feed my soul. More to come._

Angela's eyes widened, the romantic in her thrilling at the words as she watched her friend's expression change from smug to dumb-founded. Brennan turned the card over to make sure nothing else was written before placing it back in the box and then placed the spoon back along with it. She looked at Angela for a moment and then sprang to her feet, marching from the room.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"To review the security tapes."

Angela had to jog for a couple of steps before she caught up with her, grabbing her gently by the arm and turning Brennan to face her. "Wait, don't you want to keep it going for awhile?"

"No." Brennan tried to pull her arm away but her friend held on.

Angela gave her an imploring look. "Brennan, someone appears to be going to a lot of trouble to tell you how they feel about you, I mean it isn't every day that a girl finds a poem with a Welsh symbol for love on her desk."

Brennan looked incredulous. "A cultural symbol can mean anything to anyone. Symbolic anthropologists argue that societal definitions are understood strictly on the basis of the interpretations of the symbols within that society. What one society views as a symbol for love can be viewed as a symbol for dominance or fear by another. Still other societies place heavier value on actions or rituals rather than symbols at all. It's based solely on subjective reasoning, it isn't even empirically sound."

She was hedging and Angela saw right through it. "Empirically sound it might not be, but its human nature to interpret things in our environments Bren. To give them meaning. When you described it to me, what did you say again?"

The plaintive tone in Angela's voice stopped Brennan and she knew she'd been pinned against the wall. Letting out a sigh, she answered the question. "I said that giving a handmade item that is used to administer food symbolized the suitor's ability to provide for their potential mate."

Angela raised her eyebrow. "And?"

Brennan shook her arm free and crossed her arms over her chest, hating that she had to admit seeing meaning in the object. "In many cultures that is the ultimate expression of love."

Angela gave her a saucy look. "So someone is trying to tell you that they have some pretty big feelings for you, the least you could do is give them the chance to do it." Brennan nodded, seeing the validity of Angela's opinion. "Fine, I'll wait it out. For today. Then I insist on finding out who it is."

Angela's smile stretched from ear to ear. "I bet I could wager a guess. Someone tall, dark and extra special, extra special agent that is."

It was Brennan's turn to roll her eyes as she started making her way back to her office. "Booth would never do something like this, his interest in me is strictly professional."

A smirk that said, "I know something you don't know" crossed Angela's face, but she didn't elaborate. She couldn't tell Brennan about the confidence Booth had shared with her the night before and even if she could, she would never ruin something as romantic as gifts with love notes by pressing the issue in Brennan's mind.

The women went their separate ways, Brennan going back into her office and Angela sauntering off toward her own. As she returned to check her email, she couldn't help but think that it was a lovely gift.

She stared blankly at her computer monitor as Angela's theory swam through her mind. This wasn't the first time that Angela had hinted that she thought Booth had feelings for her. Brennan definitely didn't feel that he did, especially now after what had happened with his fake death.

She closed her eyes, the hurt still heavy in her heart. He hadn't cared enough to make sure she knew that he was okay. If it had been she who'd faked her death, she would have sent him a message some how, she would have let him know personally that she was alive. After all they'd been through together, she'd know that he deserved to hear from her, to hear her voice telling him that she was alright.

An image of him sitting in a hospital bed eating pudding while she lay curled in a ball on her living room floor at night, the day spent acting like she was fine until she was exhausted, made her fume. Her heart had broken into a million pieces that day. When she was hurting, he was usually the only one who knew it, the only one who would understand. He was the one that she would tell when something terrible happened and then he was gone.

With Booth, she'd found a family again and it had been ripped away. She'd let her guard down, let herself believe that she could count on someone. She'd let herself fall in love with him and he'd shown her that he could leave too.

She ran a hand over her face and shook her head, pushing the thoughts back again. She would just go back to ignoring it and everything would be back to normal soon enough.

Switching her computer off she walked into the lab, swiping her key card as she ascended the stairs. She put the thoughts out of her mind as she worked on the skull and it seemed like no time had passed before she put the last shard of bone in. She looked around and was surprised to see that she was alone. It was dark out and the clock read nine at night. Placing the skull gently on the table she stood, stretching her stiff legs and walked to her office to get her purse.

She'd been so immersed in her work that she hadn't realized how long she'd been up there. She made her way out of the Jeffersonian and dug in her purse for her keys when she was in sight of her car, stopping cold when she saw something on her hood.

Another plainly wrapped box sat waiting for her, marked with her first name just like the last one. Brennan looked around but she was alone. Making her way over to her car she took the box in her hand and got in.

This box was a bit smaller and the contents rustled when she'd picked it up. She locked her car doors and looked around once more to be sure she was alone before she tore the paper off and opened her latest gift. It was a necklace on a thin, feminine, white gold chain. The pendent on the chain had an antique looking patina. A roughly hewn rendering of a crescent moon with an equally roughly hewn star adorned the pendent. Brennan recognized them immediately as the African symbols for man and woman. Their placement so close together symbolized romantic love between the two. It was beautiful, as simple as the spoon, but powerful in what it represented. She ran her finger over the symbol and then retrieved the card from the box.

_You are the star and I am the moon. I want to be with you. Go to your place._

She slipped the items back into their box and then put them in her purse where the first gift was. Starting her car she made her way out to the road and headed toward her apartment. Her heart rate was up and her palms were a bit sweaty. Objectivity was beginning to fly out the window, making her feel off kilter. A trinket shouldn't hold any more value than its face value for her, but she felt warm and a little excited at the prospect of someone feeling this strongly for her.

As she neared her apartment, a list of suspects went through her head. Sully was the first to come to mind, but she entertained the thought for only a moment before discarding it outright. She and Sully had shared a mutual affection, a solid foundation and a strong attraction. But they hadn't been in love in the end, which had allowed them to say goodbye. That chapter was over.

_Extra Special Agent._

Brennan pulled into her parking space and got out of her car as Angela's earlier words rang in her ears. She didn't want to allow herself to think for even a moment that it could be Booth. She would be setting herself up for disappointment when it inevitably turned out to be one of the grad students working at the Jeffersonian or something and she was having a hard enough time keeping her feelings in check with everything that had happened this last week.

Brennan exited the elevator to her floor and started down the hall for her apartment. Feelings like anger, sorrow and fear were merely thoughts with strong emotions behind them. Love, she reasoned, could be included under the category of feelings and she could control her feelings. She just had to work a bit harder at it lately.

She'd almost reached her doorstep when she saw the package, anticipation licking at her insides at the sight of it. She had the urge to pick up the pace so she could rip the paper open and see what piece of the puzzle this one revealed, but stopped herself under the knowledge that it would be foolish.

This one was the smallest of the three, no bigger in width than the size of the card that was surely inside it, but a bit larger in depth. She bent to pick it up, unable to resist opening it where she stood. The contents rolled around inside as she ripped the paper marked with her name and stuffed it in her purse to throw away later. She opened the lid and her heart stopped at what she saw.

It was a bullet.

Her hand shook slightly as she reached in and picked it up, holding it up for closer examination. It was a spent slug to be more exact and she knew exactly where it had come from. This was the bullet that had shot Booth. Feeling tears begin to burn the back of her eyes she lifted the card out to read it.

_I'd give my life for you. Come inside._

A tear skittered down her cheek as she sucked in a breath. So much for thinking that symbols and actions had no meaning to her. He was in her apartment right now, waiting for her. She took the knob with a shaky hand and turned it, finding it unlocked. She couldn't seem to get a good breath as she opened the door and went inside.

He was in the middle of the room, candles burning all around him, his hands in his pockets. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a long sleeved black shirt, his casual attire making him look like just a regular guy getting ready for a date. His expression was soft, his half smile making his face look sweet and joyful as he gazed across the room at her, his head angled slightly to one side.

As she approached him it struck her, as it did nearly every time she saw him, how unbelievably handsome he was. He was the jock, the popular guy, the frat boy and he was here just for her.

She closed the distance between them and slapped him in the face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Last chapter. Thank you all ****so**** much for reading the story, your comments and feedback meant a lot. I had fun writing this and hope everyone had fun reading it. This chapter is why I gave it the M rating, so ye be warned. Arg. (Sorry, pirate humor.)**

Booth's heart sang, which he knew probably said all kinds of weird things about him, but he didn't care. He had the confirmation that he needed. She loved him too.

He'd known that her self protection instincts would kick in the minute that he made her feel vulnerable. He'd wanted to kill Sweets for toying with them, but if it hadn't been for him he would never have understood. He could see her clearly now, see how she put up a wall to keep her emotions at bay. He wanted to take her into his arms and hug her and love her until she felt safe, until he could make her see that everything was going to be alright. But her eyes were flashing anger and confusion and thinly disguised terror and he knew he would have to take it slow. He couldn't rush her.

"What do you think you're doing? Why are you playing games with me?" She asked, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. Seeing them there pulled at his heart. He hated that she had to go through this, had to fight through such thick walls just to accept love from someone at face value.

He reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I hurt you when I didn't tell you personally that I wasn't dead." He caressed the side of her face with his fingers, feeling encouraged when she let him. "Temperance, I'll never do that to you again."

She stood utterly still, tears continuing to stream down her face as she searched his. He'd used her first name, something that he only did when something vitally important was happening around them. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest. Why couldn't she compose herself?

Putting looked down for a moment, drawing courage. When he spoke again he tilted his face back up to look at hers. "I have some things to say to you and I don't know how you'll feel about them, but I'm going to tell you just the same. No secrets."

Her hand felt small and soft as he took it in his. Butterflies took flight in his stomach, making him feel more like a lovesick teenager than a grown man. Gently, he raised her hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm. Warm honey spread down her arm to her belly at the feeling and she felt her knees wobble a bit as his expression grew completely serious.

"We've been through a lot together, you and I. We've weathered a lot of things, things that would have torn other people apart, torn them down. Not us. We can handle all of the criminals and the pain and the hurt and the evil that the world can throw at us Temperance. We can handle it because we're us." He took a small step, closing the gap between them until they were almost touching. She had to tip her head back slightly to keep eye contact.

Taking her upturned face into his hands, he looked at her with such adoration that it made her heart slam in her chest and she held her breath, waiting for him to finish saying what he needed to say.

"I'm in love with you. I have been from day one and I will be to the last day. I'm not asking anything of you, I just needed you to know."

Lowering his head, he placed a gentle kiss to her lips. She'd wanted to push him away, wanted to order him out of her apartment where she could be alone to rebuild the walls that he was ruthlessly tearing down with his tender words and soft touch. She wanted to get away but wave after wave of sensation hit her as he continued to brush his lips over hers, short circuiting her brain.

She'd kissed him before, but it hadn't been like this. This was like being drawn under a big, down blanket when the world outside was cold and dangerous. He was like a drug and she could no more have pushed him away now than she could have denied herself air.

He pulled back and looked into her face, brushing an errant lock of hair off of her forehead. She'd let her eyes flutter closed during their kiss and his heart skipped when she opened them slowly back up, the guarded look in them giving way to a look that he dared interpret as desire.

When she spoke, the accusation and anger in her voice was replaced with a soft uncertainty. "This isn't a good idea. The FBI-"

"Shh." He soothed, a soft smile touching his lips. "The FBI knows we're a good team. We've proven, no matter what's happening, that we can keep our private lives private. There's nothing stopping us Temperance. The choice is all yours."

Reluctantly he took his hands away from her face, giving her space. He didn't want to pressure her. He could see her mind working in overdrive and suddenly a hot well of doubt sprang up inside of him. Maybe she really didn't want him. He put his hands back in his pockets and looked away from her face, suddenly afraid to look into her eyes in case something in them confirmed his fear.

"I've laid a lot on you today and I'm sure you have a lot to figure out. I'll give you some space." He forced a weak smile and started heading for the door.

She had wanted to get away from him, wanted to put everything back in its place inside her heart so she could feel safe again but it was too late. He'd bulldozed her defenses and she was so confused she didn't know what to do. She just knew that she didn't want him to leave.

"Seely."

His heart started pounding so hard that it hurt his chest and he felt a bit dizzy at the whisper of his name. Turning away from the door he'd almost walked through, he could see that she hadn't turned to watch him go and was facing away from him. Slowly, he made his way back across the small room, stopping just behind her.

"Yes?" His voice was as low as hers had been, a soft whisper in her ear. The thread of hope that lay within it made her shudder.

Hesitating for just a moment, she slowly turned to face him. The look in her eyes told him that she'd given up the fight and his heart soared. It was her turn to reach out and put her hand gently on his face as he stared into her eyes, waiting.

"I just have one question."

He had to find his voice again and when he did, he sounded like he hadn't spoken in years. "What's that?"

The look that came over her face was pure love. "What the hell took you so long?"

He reached for her then, crushing her into his arms, his mouth hungrily finding hers. There was suddenly oxygen in the room again. He could feel the world spinning under his feet, feel his heart pounding in his chest and blood coursing through his veins. They loved each other. They loved each other and now they both knew it.

She filled every sense he had, yet it wasn't enough, he needed more. He let his hands run up and down her back as he teased her lips with his tongue. She opened her mouth for him readily and moaned low in her throat when their tongues met inside in a slow, sizzling dance. He trembled slightly at the sound. He'd never wanted anyone more than he wanted her in this moment.

She pulled away first, locking his eyes and taking his hand to gently lead him. "Come with me."

He followed, the butterflies in his stomach going into overdrive when he realized that she was leading him to her bedroom. The curtains were open, allowing the moon to shine in and dimly light the room with a pale, blue glow. She walked him over to the end of her bed and stood in front of it, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him all over again.

He had imagined being with her on more than one occasion, but the reality of it made him feel nervous and excited and scared all at once. She threaded her fingers through his hair. It all felt so good, so right. It was better than he could have possibly imagined and they were only at the kissing part.

She drew away, grabbing the bottom of his shirt in both hands, pulling it up. Obediently he raised his arms, revealing a plain white tank undershirt beneath. He let his eyes flutter closed as she ran the palms of her hands down his chest and then felt as she started stripping the undershirt off too.

When he finally stood before her bare chested he felt the nerves kick up again. She'd seen him naked, recently in fact, but they'd been in an argument and she hadn't acted like he'd made much of a lasting impact on her visually speaking. Now she was looking at him intently, hunger in her eyes. She leaned in and placed kisses to his collarbone, to the well-defined muscles in his chest, then stopped to brush a soft finger over the gauze that still lay taped over the healing gunshot wound in his shoulder.

She darted her eyes up to meet his and then looked back down at the bandage. When she spoke, her voice was shaky. "I never thanked you. You took a bullet for me, saved my life and I, well, I never thanked you."

He looked down in her face as fresh tears sprang anew to her eyes and she continued. "If I'd thanked you, you would know. You would see how much you mattered and I couldn't let you. I couldn't let anyone see how much you mean. How much I love you."

Booth swallowed a lump in his throat and placed kisses to her eyes, tasting her salty tears. "I'd do it for you again and again." He whispered. "I'd do anything for you. You're everything."

Pushing her away gently, he placed a kiss to her lips and slid her jacket off of her shoulders. She shrugged out of it without question and helped him to untuck her v-neck blouse, sliding it up and off to reveal a black demi bra. She reached around to her back and undid the clasp in one swift motion.

He watched as she slipped the straps off of her shoulders, letting the scrap of material and wire fall to the floor. He went hard as rock.

Her breasts were large by any standards but her frame was slim and athletic, which made them look even larger. He reached out with one hand and cupped her breast, his touch as soft as if he were handling a piece of priceless crystal. She let her head fall back, let herself be consumed by how good it felt to be touched by Seely Booth.

"I'm going to touch you everywhere." He murmured, bending his head to find her mouth, kissing her again as he took her in both of his hands. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples and she moaned against his mouth, reaching down to his jeans. She worked the button and zipper before she began inching them down over his hips until they fell into a mound around his ankles.

He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side while she raked her eyes over his muscular body. The bulge in his boxer briefs looked impressive and she couldn't help but reach out and gently stroke him through the cloth. His knees buckled slightly and he made a small sound of pleasure before he reached up and cupped her face with his hands once more.

He looked down into her smoldering eyes, his voice husky with need. "Temperance, are you sure?"

She kissed his lips softly, the desire in his voice sending a tremor through her. "More than I've ever been about anything."

She wrapped her arms around him and leaned back, pulling him along with her until he lay over her on the bed. He slid his hand down between their bodies and unclasped her belt so he could pop the button of her slacks open. She helped him slide them down her legs until she could kick them off. His skin tingled everywhere that hers touched it.

"Sweet God you feel good." He groaned against her lips as he felt her breasts against his chest. "I want to make love to you so badly."

He let his hand run up and down her side while he propped himself up on his elbow, memorizing the curve of her breast, the soft dip of her waist, the bow of her hip. Her skin was soft and smelled like orchids from her perfume. He was drunk with her.

They reversed positions so she straddled him at the waist. His eyes swept over her naked body as he reached up to touch her, caressing her everywhere. He sighed. "So beautiful."

She thrilled at his words. "I could say the same for you."

He smiled and she leaned down to kiss him again while he ran his hands up and down her back, making goose flesh pop out everywhere they touched. She could feel him, hard and ready beneath her.

She needed to feel him inside her. Now.

She rolled again so he resumed his position on top and reached between them to slide her panties down. He needed no further encouragement and made quick work of his boxers.

He stared down at her, unable to believe that they were naked in each other's arms. He'd wanted her for so long, it was almost surreal.

"I love you Temperance." He whispered, needing to say it out loud again, needing her to hear it before he showed her with his body how he felt.

His words washed over her, filling holes in her that she hadn't even known were there. She closed her eyes and pulled him down to her, kissing his cheeks, his chin, his forehead then stopped a hair's breath from his lips. "I love you Seely." She whispered back and pressed her lips to his as he slid inside her.

They moved together in unison, their bodies perfectly in synch. She grabbed his hair in her hands and wrapped her legs around him as he scattered kisses all over her. He wanted every inch of her body to feel his touch, to know that she belonged to him.

She met his thrusts with her own, her hips matching his rhythm in a way that drove him crazy inside. It was like their bodies were built just for each other and the result was incredible.

She couldn't get close enough to him, couldn't satisfy her need to have him fill every part of her at once. She took his mouth with greed and wrapped her arms around him just as her legs were. A thin sheen of sweat slicked their skin at the heat they generated.

He could feel himself teetering dangerously close to the edge as the moans against his mouth intensified. She broke away from his kiss, gasping his first name over and over in his ear. Hearing the sound of his name on her lips was going to be his undoing. He didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to hold out.

Triumph shot through his veins as she arched into him with a cry, her body convulsing around where he joined her. Grabbing a fistful of the comforter in his hand, he let himself accompany her into that sweet oblivion.

They stared at each other, both breathless and trembling from the intensity they'd just experienced. He'd known that when he was with the right woman, his soul mate, that it would be like this. Now that he'd found her, he was shaken by how full his heart felt.

"I know what you mean now." She said breathlessly, her arms still wrapped around him, holding him close.

He kissed her forehead, still trying to regain his composure. "Mean about what?"

"Becoming one. Achieving miracles."

He dropped his head to hers and pressed a slow, soft kiss to her lips. After the long road they'd taken to get here and the way she felt in his arms right now, it truly was nothing short of a miracle. He would cherish it as he cherished her.

The End


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